I Feel the Earth Move under my Feet
by Elena George
Summary: An earthquake hits LA during a late night at work.
1. Shock

I Feel the Earth Move under my Feet

I Feel the Earth Move under my Feet

A/N: for the fun of it, certainly not for profit…

Chapter 1 - Shock

The first anyone knew was by the sound of it. It sounded like a great rumbling. Then the shock wave of the earthquake struck. Perry and Della had been working late – again. Simultaneously, they knew they were in deep trouble. As the building swayed left then right, Perry reached out to and grabbed Della. He pushed her under his desk, then he tucked himself as close to her as he could get. His stretched out his arms to protect her as best he could.

Wall hangings came rattling loose and down with a crash. Perry's lit cigarette rolled out of the ashtray onto the carpet. Furniture danced about the room. Ceiling tiles came raining down followed by insulation bats. In the space of 90 seconds, the world was wrecked all around them. The sprinkler system in the corridor outside the office began to flood the hall and then his office. The lit cigarette was quickly extinguished by soggy carpet. Alarms began concussing the airways with their dire warnings.

Just as soon as things stopped vibrating and thrashing about, Perry drew Della out from under the desk. He held her close to his chest and buried his face in her dust-covered hair. For her part, she hid herself in the warmth of his embrace.

At long last, he lifted her chin and looked deeply in her eyes, "Della?"

She nodded weakly, "I'm okay, Perry. You?"

"Will be," he began. "Let's get out of here after we find Paul."

After retrieving a flashlight, they eased the door open and found that things were little better there than in his office. He turned back toward what had been his office.

"The files are all locked up?"

Della nodded, "Sure, but I don't know if they could survive that."

Perry took her hand in his and guided her down the corridor toward Paul Drake's offices. More insulation and ceiling came crashing down behind them. Water continued to pour out of sprinkler heads, swirled down the corridor, and oozed into offices along the way but at least the alarms had stopped clanging after a few minutes.

"Perry, this is really dangerous. We'd better hurry before the whole building comes down around us tonight!"

Mason pulled at the debris in the corridor as they drew closer to Paul's offices.

"Paul! Paul!" he called out. "Anybody in there?"

Together they tugged the debris away from the main door enough for Della to squeeze through.

"Perry…can't see a thing in here. It's dark as pitch," she relayed to him.

He threaded his hand to her, "Here, take the torch."

Things were still sifting through from ceiling to floor. Della moved cautiously over and through furniture and filing cabinets that had been violently moved from their normal places. The flashlight added its own ghastly apparitions to the whole mix as it passed over the room.

"Paul? Paul? Perry and I were still in the building. Are you still here?" Della called.

She scanned each room until she found a leg sticking out from under a pile of cabinets.

"Perry! I found somebody!" she screamed.

Mason tore at the debris blocking his access. He fought his way through, pushing his large frame through a space meant for someone much smaller than he.

"I'm in, Della. Where are you?" he called to her.

"Over here, Perry," Della had already begun to move things off the body.

Mason dove into the heap and pulled things around until the person was uncovered enough to be checked for life. Mason reached a hand toward the throat. Della was feeling for a pulse at the wrist. All was silent as they bowed their heads.

"Can you tell who it was, Perry?"

"I think it was Hatcher, but I can't be certain," he responded.

The building trembled.

"Della!" shouted Mason.

"Right here."

"Let's get out of here while we still can," Perry commanded. "That did not feel like an aftershock. That felt like the building getting ready to give way."

They extracted themselves from the office and headed for the stairwell. It was blocked two floors down by immense shards of concrete.

"Come on, Della, back up we go. Do you have any sensible shoes by your desk?"

"Sure, Perry. I keep a pair for when the days get longer than long," she replied casually.

"Then we'll get them. The ones you're wearing look great but won't get us far through the tangle of what's left of this building," he commented with a grin.

They wound their way back to his offices. Della swapped shoes just in time for a minor aftershock. More ceiling debris collapsed on top of them. It was morning before Mason came back around. Light sifted in from all points around them. He could no longer hear the sounds of rushing water and guessed that the fire department had shut the water off to the building or the city services were completely knocked out. However, he was still soaked to the skin and cold.

Mason shook his head, which only served to remind him not to do that again. The wave of nausea was nearly irresistible. When the wave passed, he began to hunt for Della. Her hand extended under a pile of rubble. Fear rose in his throat as he searched for a pulse. An instant seemed to be an eternity, until blessed relief, he found her still alive. He wiped his smudged face on his sleeve.

"Thank You, God in Heaven!" he whispered as he tore into the rubble to extricate her.

Mason soon discovered that a massive support column separated them. It had fallen and pinned her legs and lower body. The building held her fast. Insane with rage, he continued to rip away at the other rubble until all that remained was the one column. He scooted under it and wiped away the dirt from her face. Gently, he bent low and kissed her softly.

"Della, I'm here. I won't leave you, no matter what," he spoke in hushed tones to the unconscious form.

Hours passed as Mason sat amid the wreckage next to Della. He had removed his jacket and covered her carefully with it. He had even retrieved his outer coat from what was left of his office and encased her in as much warmth as he could devise. Occasionally, he would heard the building creak and moan. Mercifully there had been no more aftershocks that he had felt. He ran his fingers through her hair and stroked her face tenderly. Every so often, he double checked her pulse. His head wobbled as he dozed from his own concussion. The scratching noises from his now wrecked office brought him back to life.

"Hey!" he shouted. "We're in here!"

It took firemen three hours to extricate Della from the column and debris field. It took almost that long to remove Mason from the scene to the ground level. Paul greeted him at the foot of the building.

"Perry," Drake approached his friend. "I've been frantic with worry when I could not find you or Della last night!"

Mason looked stricken, "Della's still trapped up there. A support beam fell across her in the aftershock. We stayed late, heading for dinner when it hit. Like an idiot, I thought a sensible pair of shoes…we went back…Hatcher is dead…all my fault…"

"Perry, you're not making a whole lot of sense," Paul cautioned him. "Come over here and sit down."

Drake handed Mason a canteen of water, "Here, drink this."

Mason squeezed his eyes tightly then poured some water into his hand and wiped off his face then drank quickly and deeply.

"Hey, not so fast, you'll…"

Almost immediately Mason vomited the water back up. When his retching calmed down, he rinsed out his mouth and sipped slowly this time.

"Sorry, Paul," he murmured.

"It's all right. Now, try and remember your medic training from the war and go slow," Paul cautioned to which Mason nodded. "How about I take you to the hospital and get you checked out?"

"I'm not leaving without Della," Mason said flatly as he looked toward his office balcony. "Until then, tell me how bad the city was hit."

"Bad enough. They've found a dozen or so dead but scores are unaccounted for. I had to pull all kinds of strings to get them down here and looking for you two," Paul reported in his usual tone of voice. "There are roads out… Multiple downtown buildings sustained some kind of damage. Some of the newer ones won't survive. A lot of folks are living in their backyards between fear and destruction."

Mason smiled at him, "Glad you did, Paul." He went on, "Della and I were within minutes of leaving for dinner when the quake hit. We got under the desk. When it was over, we went looking for you, thinking you might still be in the building, too – found Hatcher instead. He'd been crushed under the collapsed ceiling and who knows what else. Then we made for the stairs and were blocked. That's when we went back and the whole world fell in on top of us. It's my fault – I suggested she needed better shoes to hike through the mess."

The two men sat on a concrete railing waiting. An hour or so later, a Stokes litter was brought down the ladder with Della bundled inside. Mason insisted in riding with her to the hospital in the same ambulance. Paul trailed along in his car.


	2. Awake

Chapter 2 - Awake

Chapter 2 - Awake

It took over ten hours of surgery and pint upon pint of blood to repair her crushed legs and pelvis. She awoke a week later in the confines of a body cast and traction.

"Perry," she whispered. "How long have I been out? I feel like Rip van Winkle, but you're the one with the beard," she chuckled then continued. "That's a right respectable beard you've grown waiting on me."

Mason's hand tightened around hers as he stood up. He brushed her hair tenderly with his hand and leaned over to kiss her forehead.

"You've come back to me, Della," he choked out. "That's all that really matters."

"When have I ever left you, Perry?" was her tender reply as her hand held his all the tighter.

"Marry me, Della," Perry begged as he kneaded her free hand.

"Perry, you can't base a marriage on guilt. You know that," Della instructed.

His brow went up, "Guilt? Me?"

"Yes, you. You feel guilty because we went back for my shoes," Della reminded him.

"Did Paul tell you what he and I talked about?" Perry wanted to know.

"Huh? No, he didn't have to. We've been together a lot of years ever since I was 22 years old. I don't need anybody else to tell me about Perry Mason," she said with love in her voice.

He sighed and dropped his head. He sat back down by the bed, his face close to hers. His eyes caressed her even as his hands kneaded hers.

"You know, I think I like the beard, Perry," she teased, reaching out and caressing it. "Oh, it's softer than I had imagined. Does it itch?"

He grinned and scratched his chin, "Well, I'm not sure it's the 'look' I want for court though. It's not as if I'm a judge. But, no, it doesn't itch."

Della gave a throaty laugh, "You will be one day. Judge Perry Mason!"

"Oh, I don't know. Not much in the bench that is particularly exciting," he rejoined. "I can't see me doing nothing but writing opinions and listening to stuff shirted lawyers."

"You are such a fox hound – it's all about the chase for you," she said wryly.

He grinned again, "And for you, my dear, and for you, too. You've been there on all the important chases."

"So I have, so I have," she reflected. "That aside, Perry, you look beat. Why not go home and get some sleep in a real bed instead of that chair."

"I'm fine right here," he replied with a gentle smile, his chin resting back on the bar of the bed.

"That was not a question, Perry. I think the hospital staff can take care of me for a few hours without your assistance. You need some sleep and food," she commanded.

"Very well. Your wish is my command," he cajoled her while kissing the top of her head. "I do love you, Della. And I know full well that you love me. I've asked before, you've turned me down before, but I won't give up. You _**will **_be my bride one day if I have to wait until I'm a hundred. That's not a question; it's a statement of fact. Now, rest well."

With that, he left. It was hard for Della to get comfortable. Every nerve in her body was singing out of tune or simply on fire. Movement was reduced to breathing and little else. Just about the time the morphine took hold, somebody came in to wake her for some reason or other. Mason, on the other hand, slept like the proverbial log. The exhaustion that was both physical and mental had taken its toll and demanded payment in sleep.

A day later, Mason returned to find Della bouncing between pain and fitful sleep. It only took three weeks for the worst of the pain to subside so that the morphine could be slowly withdrawn. The rest of the world had also begun to restore itself. Roads were repaired, and buildings were assessed for integrity. The Brent Building was marked for demolition within the next few weeks. Mason moved his offices into the Heyburn Building a few blocks over. The files had survived even though the cabinets and much of the other furniture had not.

The Drake Detective Agency moved across the street from the Heyburn Building into the Fincastle Building. Neither of the buildings was as new or as chic as had been the Brent Building, but at least they had headquarters again. Office space in the city's heart was at a premium.

Within a month, Della's multiple internal injuries were well on their way to healed. Not as much could be said for the fractures though. Perry spent many waking hours in her room, so much so that he brought up a portable table from which to work. He would call Gertie and check on things at the office every few hours.

"You know, Perry," Della commented, "You really don't have to stay here with me. I'm fine, really."

He did not look up from his briefs, "Uh huh. Della," he looked up, "I told you back in the office that I would not leave you. I meant what I said," and he plowed back into his work.

Della shook her head, "I don't know which is worse – the body cast that itches terribly or the traction which makes me feel as if I'm on a Medieval rack being tortured for a confession!"

Perry grinned then looked with deep compassion, "Darling, at least I still have you with me. Della, when I came to and could only find your hand sticking out from under the rubble, I was scared out of my wits that I had lost you. If I could hurt instead of you, you know I would. I am about as sorry as I can be that you hurt, but I thank God that you are alive!"

Della muttered from the confines of the traction harness, "I know, Perry. I'm just so tired of being cooped up and stuck in this bed. I could just scream!"

"I tell you what, Della," he began. Perry got up, carefully dropped the bed's rail, and took her hand in his. "When you are free of this prison, we'll go up to the cabin at the lake and just relax. No briefs, no cases, no 'nothing.' It'll be just you and me," he smiled, satisfied with himself.

He joined his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. Della felt the pain and tension ease for a few moments. She felt utterly loved and that love was the most healing presence in her life right then and there. She softly whispered his name, "Perry."


	3. Scars

Chapter 3 - Scars

Chapter 3 - Scars

The body cast remained in place for over two months. Sawing it off was nerve-wracking. Della was then allowed to take an oatmeal bath to get rid of the itchiness that the cast had imposed upon her skin. She was mortified by the scars on her legs and elsewhere. She swore she'd never see the inside of a bathing suit ever again! Accordingly, she did not bother to pack one when Perry took her up to the cabin on Tahoe even though the weather might be just warm enough for a swim. It was a pity since she did enjoy the sport.

She did have one new item in her packing. It was an aluminum brace for her left leg that had borne the majority of the impact of the collapse. It helped stabilize the injured knee so that she could walk, even if haltingly resting most of her weight on the walker. The orthopedists were unsure if she'd ever be rid of it. Only time would tell.

The sun glistened on the lake and sent a shimmering trail of light into the cabin. Della awakened first to the light scent of yesterday's Old Spice and cigarettes, and then she found a warm, pajama-clad body next to her in bed. His back was to her, and her arms were wrapped around his chest while his hand held her arms in place.

"Perry?" she whispered to him.

He grunted.

"Perry?" she said again a little louder.

He felt him stirring, "Della? Something wrong?"

"You tell me. You're in _**my**_ bed," she remarked as calmly as she could.

"You were screaming in the middle of the night," he rolled to face her. "I came in to see what the matter was, and you grabbed me by a handful of chest hair and wouldn't let me go." He grinned, "So I didn't fight you. Best sleep I've had in a long time."

"Perry, you're incorrigible!" she laughed then hesitated. "Did we?"

"No, we didn't," Perry stroked her face tenderly. "I will never take advantage of you or use you. I want you for life not just one night. One night with you would never be enough for me."

He kissed her forehead before rolling out of bed, "Let me give you some privacy. You want the shower first?"

"You making the coffee?"

"I can," he smiled at her.

After a leisurely breakfast, Perry pulled out Della's walker, "Let's take a stroll down to the lake."

Perry walked slowly along with Della, "I was wondering if tomorrow you might like to take a swim with me?"

She blanched at the thought, "I don't know, Perry. I don't think I packed a suit. Besides after all that time in the hospital, I don't think any of my suits fit me any more. I lost at least twenty pounds in those months."

"How about the paddle boat?"

She gave a look of horror.

"Come on, Della. We can't have you freezing up," Perry cautioned. "We've got to find your spirit of adventure again. You're as much a fox hound as I am, and you know it! We're made for each other."

Della swallowed hard then nodded. Perry swept her up in his arms and placed her in the boat. He could feel the light metal of the brace on her leg. She scooted over so that Perry could slide in next to her after having untied the boat.

"You steer, and I'll paddle to start with," he gave her a big impish grin.

After a few minutes of cruising along the shore's edge, she navigated them out of the small, protected area that served as a cove for the cabin. Perry smiled broadly at her.

"How about joining me in paddling?" he asked.

They spent an hour or so out on the lake. Perry kept a close eye on her for signs of fatigue. He scooped her up when they got back and planted her on the dock. They walked back to the cabin where Perry fixed a light lunch only to find Della fast asleep on the couch. He covered her and let her sleep for an hour before waking her.

"Darling, you don't want to turn your days into nights," Perry whispered in her ear as he tried to rouse her.

The next morning, Perry did get her into the water. The accident happened for both in slow motion. Perry was again lifting her into the paddleboat when a neighboring powerboat came screaming by. The wake threw them both into the lake on opposite sides of the paddleboat. Della dove under the dock while Perry ended up on the outboard side. He was slammed face first into the paddleboat and once more by the wake. She momentarily clung to the supports under the dock while disengaging her brace. It fell into the water below.

"Della, Della!" hollered Perry in a panic.

She stroked her way over to him, "Perry, I'm fine. The water's a little cold, but I'm just fine," she gave him a warm smile as she swam over to him, then she noticed. "Are you okay? You're bleeding."

Perry touched his forehead where he'd hit the dock or the boat or something, "Flesh wound," he laughed. "How about after we get cleaned back up, we get some wet suits and go for a real swim?"

Della pulled herself onto the dock, "Water does make it so much easier."

"Where is your brace?" Perry asked.

"At the bottom – under the dock," she replied coolly as she brushed her hair back out of her face.

"That's _**my**_ Della," Perry rejoiced as he reached out and kissed her cheek. "I knew you would not stay spooked forever!"

He dove back in and retrieved the missing appliance, "Once this is all dried out, we'll go into town to the dive shop and get some wet suits. That idiot may have done us a real favor."

For the rest of the next two weeks, they enjoyed the swimming. Della knew that Perry was graceful on the dance floor, but this was a fresh dimension. He swam past her as if he was born in the water and had lived there all his life. Swimming with him was more like dancing. For her the swimming also rebuilt the leg muscles that the body cast had stolen in the months of living in it. Perry selected various sized fins for Della. Each would strengthen different sets of muscles. Large fins worked her calves while the stubby fins made her use her hamstrings, quads, and adductors for more power and strengthening her damaged hip joints.

It was so much easier than walking that she seldom wanted to go back up to the cottage. Lunch was packed, and they spent the day at the dock. After lunch, Della would snuggle up next to Perry under the shade tree and nap. Perry alternated her swimming with the paddleboat to rebuild the lost muscle tone. He had every intention of seeing that Della got rid of the brace permanently. At night, Perry would carefully massage out the Charlie horses that the workouts had given her. She no longer worried about the scars after he kissed the ones he found.

A/N: In case you'd not figured it out already, I'm heading more toward book Della than TV in the next chapter.


	4. Homeward Bound almost

Ch 4 – Homeward Bound, Almost

As if by magic, Della found that both her legs were sufficiently strong to support her walking without the brace or walker after the weeks at the cabin swimming and paddleboating. In place of the walker, she used a cane to steady the left leg just enough to keep her from stumbling. The water and Perry had been excellent therapy. Her bags were packed and in the trunk of the car. Perry was closing up the cabin while she was waiting in the front seat.

"Perry?" she started as he slipped behind the wheel and then pulled her closer.

He turned toward her with a smile, "I know you're so much stronger now than when we first got out here, but have you had a good time?"

"You know I have," she replied with a big smile for him. "Were you serious when you said that you'd wait for me even if you were a hundred?"

Sensing an opening, "Will you marry me, Della? I won't ask you to stay home and keep house. We can have a housekeeper or maid or whatever you want. I want you at my side in the office. I cannot imagine my office without you anyhow. You can keep your maiden name or whatever your heart desires. Just be my wife. We could even keep it a secret if you wanted."

Della looked in his eyes and saw them genuinely pleading his case. She smiled and caressed his face.

"I've told you 'no' so many times in the past. I've told you I did not want to lose that spirit of adventure in you through settling down. And you've heard me say that I was not the least bit interested in being a housewife," she began. "I love being out there on the case with you and Paul too much to leave that behind."

Perry prepared himself for yet another "no." He nodded in assent.

"I don't want a housewife anyhow, " he explained. "I want you just the way you are – undomesticated, free, adventuresome. I don't want to lose that in you any more than you do. You've always said I needed a secretary more than I needed a wife, but I really need you to be both. Besides I don't think there is a person alive who could domesticate me in any event."

Della laughed, "Perry, you're all geared up to hear another 'no.' It's not 'no' this time, it's 'yes.'"

Perry looked stunned, "Yes?"

"Yes," Della confirmed. "If you can stand to look at these scars and the ones you've not seen and love me anyway, then I can stand to cook and keep the office for you."

He pulled them even closer together and devoured her with his eyes before applying the gentlest of kisses to her lips, "Forget cooking. We'll eat out as we always do. The only thing that will change is that we will be together."

"We're already together," she murmured as she kissed him back. "When have we ever been apart?"

"You know what I mean. The state line is only five miles from here…" he managed to get out before passion and the opportunity to exercise it came together at long last.

They quietly left Nevada for Los Angeles as husband and wife. He took Route 50 to Placerville and stopped for gas and lunch with a turn south toward Fresno and heading home.

Perry helped Della into the car as he always did, "You know Della, I have a great, great grandfather who came through here in the 1800s."

"I think you had mentioned something about somebody who was, what military governor?"

"Uh huh. Colonel Richard Mason," he slipped his arm around her and pulled her closer. "Let's see if we can find the historical marker out on Route 49."

Della smiled warmly, "A new adventure?"

He looked down at her, kissed the top of her head, "Why not? We really don't have to be back until Monday."

"And if it's good, we can always call Gertie and…" Della laughed.

"Something like that," he grinned back to her.

"Well, let's go!"

Somewhere between Sutter Creek and Jackson, a tire blew. Flap, flap, flap, flap – it sounded as Mason eased the car onto the shoulder of the road. Perry shook his head, kissed his wife, and got out.

"Let me take a quick look, Della," he commented as he gave the car a walk around. "Here it is, right rear."

He pulled their luggage out of the truck and made a neat pile with it, "Darling, you sit on this while I change the tire," he offered her his hand.

"Perry, have you ever changed a tire before?" Della asked.

"No. There's a first time for everything," he smiled at her before dipping back into the trunk for tools and spare.

Della listened to the sounds of tools being arranged on the pavement. She really wanted to watch in the worst of ways. She heard him grunting as she mentally inventoried what she'd do. Her brother had taught her years ago how to change a flat. She had experience, but she also knew that her husband might not appreciate a woman in a man's task.

Perry then removed his jacket, dropping it over the edge of the trunk lid. After looking at the project a few more moments, he stood upright and gazed at Della.

"I don't suppose you know anything about how to change a flat, do you?"

Della noted the greasy dirt on his hands, "Well, I know you have to jack the car up first."

"I knew there was a reason I married you," he laughed and showed her the jack. "I think it's missing something."

Della gave it the once over, "Try sticking the tire iron in here."

"Did that already. It doesn't fit; therefore, my dear, we are stuck," Perry commented while showing her that the parts just did not go together.

Della got up and checked the map, "We could walk to Jackson."

Perry rubbed fresh dirt into the grease on his hands in an effort to remove some of the gunk, "How far is it?"

She hobbled over to the trunk and pulled out a red rag, "Here, you can finish the job with this."

He nodded after leaving the fresh dirt on the grass on the side of the highway, "Thanks, Della."

He craned his neck over to the map and noted with a soft whistle, "It looks to be about a mile or so."

"Your point, Counselor?" Della responded.

"Well, I'm not leaving you on the side of the road, and I'm not sure it's a good idea to make you walk that far," he responded dropping the tools back into the trunk.

"I'm not an invalid, Perry," she stiffened.

He replaced their luggage haphazardly into the trunk, "No, you're not." He closed the trunk, "I just am thinking that we don't want to give back what you've gained just proving that you're not an invalid."

He reached over and gave her a peck on the cheek and held the door open. Mason nodded, "Get back in and I'll see if I can flag down someone to take us into Jackson."

It was half an hour before dark when a lone truck passed by. Mason flagged the driver down.

"Hey, can we get a lift into Jackson with you?"

"What happened?" the old man wanted to know.

"Flat tire, no jack," Perry nodded back over his head. "My wife had surgery on her leg recently and can't walk that far yet."

The old man hopped down and inspected the flat tire. He looked Mason up and down several times then moved to the window where Della sat. He tipped his hat to her, which elicited a warm smile from her.

"Yeah, I guess so," he motioned to Mason. "Let's get going. It'll be dark soon. You don't want to get caught out here after dark, mister."

Perry extended his hand, "Perry Mason."

The old man just grunted, "Jim Woodward."

"Perry, can you get at least one of our bags?" Della suggested.

He grabbed one of Della's and stuffed it into the back of the pickup. He helped Della up into the truck and slid in next to her.

"We are much obliged to you, Mr. Woodward," Mason offered. "I'm curious about what you meant about being caught out here after dark?"

Woodward grunted, "It's haunted's all."

Della gave a funny look to Perry who replied, "Haunted, is it?"

"Two years ago, there was this young couple killed by somebody or some wild animal just off the creek. They never did figure it out. But folks out here after dark have seen them young lovers' ghosts," he delivered his warning without much enthusiasm.

They were in Jackson before half an hour and Woodward dropped them at the little motel along the highway before he drove on.

The clerk glanced up as Mason and his wife entered.

"Sign the guest register. You're lucky it's off-season about now. Where's your car?" the words tumbled out in a hurry as he went back to his television show. "Red Skelton. I just love that man!"

Mason registered them, "What time does the garage open in the morning?"

"About seven. Here, Cottage 9," he passed the key over the counter. "That'll be 15, prepaid since you got no car. Check out is at ten."

Mason paid him, picked up the suitcase and took Della's elbow, "We'll get a good night's sleep and in the morning, I'll go back with the mechanic and the proper tools."

"You just think you are going to get a good night's sleep, Mr. Mason," she gave him a sultry voice and look to match.

Mason placed the suitcase on the luggage rack and turned back toward his wife, "Darling, when I get cleaned up, what would you like to eat?"

"Steak and potato, you know that," she said grinning at him. "Here, let me help you out of those things."

Della came close to him and slipped his jacket off. His eyes devoured her. His hand found their way to her waist as they involuntarily pulled her closer. Her hands slid up his chest to unbutton each button with a kiss. She ran her hands through the hair on his chest planting kisses as she went, causing him to moan.

"I can't tell you how long I have wanted to do this," she murmured as Perry's head drew back. His hands found her shoulders and worked themselves there like a contented kitten.

When he could stand it no longer, he bent down and captured her lips with his. Large gentle hands caressed her face and wrapped themselves in her hair. Next, he worked his way down her neck undoing buttons as he went, "And I've waited a long time for this."

When they were half undressed, Della danced them to the bed. Perry reached past her and flipped the sheets down and out of the way. He picked her up and gently deposited her in the middle of the bed. His trousers fell away as if on their own accord. He settled himself next to her, gazing full in her face, caressed her face with a tender hand.

"I love you," he whispered moving loving hands over her body. Her bra posed little interruption to the flow of his motions.

"And I love you," Della assured him as her hands moved his boxers.

Della rolled onto her back just in time to hear the pounding at the door.

Perry jumped with a start. He looked at his wife as she returned the annoyed gesture.

"Well, that kills the mood," she grumbled.

Perry gave her a rapacious look, "Not for me. Now where were we?"

Again the door was pounded upon, "Mr. Mason! Mr. Mason!"

Perry rolled over onto his back, gazed up at the ceiling, and called back, "What?!"


	5. Ch 5 Meet Frank

Ch 5 – Meet Frank

Ch 5 – Meet Frank

A/N: We left our couple on their wedding night marooned in Jackson due to a flat tire and no working jack.

When they were half undressed, Della danced them to the bed. Perry reached past her and flipped the sheets down and out of the way. He picked her up and gently deposited her in the middle of the bed. His trousers fell away as if on their own accord. He settled himself next to her, gazing full in her face, caressed her face with a tender hand.

"I love you," he whispered moving loving hands over her body. Her bra posed little interruption to the flow of his motions.

"And I love you," Della assured him as her hands moved his boxers out of the way.

Della rolled onto her back just in time to hear the pounding at the door.

Perry jumped with a start. He looked at his wife as she returned the annoyed gesture.

"Well, that kills the mood," she grumbled.

Perry gave her a rapacious look, "Not for me. Now where were we?"

Again the door was pounded upon, "Mr. Mason! Mr. Mason!"

Perry rolled over onto his back, gazed up at the ceiling, and called back, "What?!"

A muffled voice called out, "Mr. Mason, Perry Mason?"

An irritated response came, "Yes, that's right."

"I need to see you right away!" came the harried voice.

"This had better be good," grumbled Mason. "Give us a minute, will you?"

"Perry…" Della began but was cut off by her husband's fingers across her lips.

He kissed her gently, "If I don't get rid of him, we'll have no peace at all tonight, Darling."

She nodded as they redressed quickly. Della was still fussing with her hair when Mason opened the door to their unwanted guest.

"Good evening. Hope I'm not interrupting anything. Name's Frank Halloran," he took out a card and thrust it into Mason's hand.

Mason looked at the card and motioned toward Della, "Uh, my secretary and wife, Della Street."

He was unsure of exactly how to address her since that discussion had not been finished.

Frank reached out to shake her hand, "Pleasure to meet you."

Della smiled and took his hand as best she could without looking peeved, "Mr. Halloran."

Mason took over the conversation, "Mr. Halloran, what is it that you needed me for that could not wait until morning?"

"My brother, James... You see…he's been accused of a murder that took place a while back. He's not guilty. He's innocent, but…" Halloran began.

"Mr. Halloran, your card indicates that you are an attorney. Surely, you know someone who can handle the case," Mason protested.

"I'm licensed in Colorado but could get credentials for California, if I needed, but I do civil law, property, divorces, and the like. Criminal law never really appealed to me. The hours of a criminal attorney would leave me no time for my family," Halloran responded.

Mason nodded his head as Della dug through the suitcase and found a pad and pencil. She quietly began taking notes. Mason motioned for them to sit around the small table in the corner of the room.

"Tell me what you know," he asked.

"Well, it started a couple of years ago with the killing of a couple of young lovers," Halloran began.

Della gave Mason a knowing look as she thought of the story their benefactor had told them on the way into town.

"James was back from the Army and wanted to do some traveling and see the sights before getting back to work in Chicago where we were raised. He found he loved the country up here and bought a very small vineyard. I've been down to visit with my family every summer since then," Halloran paused and looked at Della who had just finished recording his words.

"She is my confidential secretary, Mr. Halloran. She takes notes for all my work," Mason pointed out.

Halloran nodded and began again, "So James and I were out with the families when the sheriff pulled us over. It seems I was carried away and speeding."

He produced the ticket, smoothing the wrinkles out on the tabletop.

"When the sheriff went back to his car after pulling me over, he came back with a flyer in his hand. Moreover, he had his hand on his gun!"

Mason lit a cigarette and offered one to Halloran who happily took one, too.

"Go on," Mason pushed.

"He took James into custody and told me that he'd be held on suspicion of murder! Don't you see, James could not have possibly killed that couple. He does not have it in him. But here he is – sitting over in the Jackson City Jail. Can you see your way clear to help us, please, Mr. Mason?" Halloran pleaded.

Mason stroked his nose, "And this could not have waited until morning?"

"I was at the diner across the street, having just seen James, when they said you were here. Said something about a flat and that you'd be on your way first thing tomorrow. I really needed to catch you before you took off," Halloran begged.

Mason drew on the cigarette, looked at it carefully, rolled the ash from the tip into the ashtray. He looked into Halloran's eyes and saw his desperation.

"All right, Mr. Halloran, I'll see your brother," Mason started.

Halloran jumped up and clasped Mason's hand, "I can't thank you enough."

"Don't thank me yet. I didn't say I'd take the case – only that I'd talk to him. I'll talk to him tomorrow. It's after eight o'clock, and there just is not much we can do this evening," Mason said flatly.

"That's all I ask. I am indebted to you in any way you see fit," Halloran started for the door. "I'll pick you up here in the morning. How's eight o'clock sound to you?"

Mason gave an inward groan, "We'll be ready."

Mason saw an eager but relieved Frank Halloran out the door. This time, he slipped the "Do Not Disturb" sign out.

"Della, how about calling the front desk and having the hold all calls," he commented with a wicked grin stealing across his face.

She gave him the same look and merely took the phone off the hook, "That should do it."

They met in the middle of the room, "Now where were we?" Perry kissed her forehead and began making lazy circles with his nose against her ear.

He proceeded to kiss his way down her neck and throat as she tugged his shirt tail back out. She slid her hands under his shirt and around his waist. They eased their way back to the bed, shedding each other's clothes as they went.

The next morning, Mason awakened to the sound of pounding on the door – again.

Della also struggled to awakened, "Must be Mr. Halloran," she mumbled as her eyes sought out the alarm.

"I don't want to get up," Perry told his wife as he enfolded her back into his arms.

The knocking continued, "Mr. Mason. You okay? The front desk tried to get you, but your phone is out of order or something."

A bleary-eyed Perry rubbed the sleep from his eyes, "Mr. Halloran?"

"Yes, it's me, Frank," was the reply.

"We overslept," began Mason. "Meet us in the front office in a little while. Okay?"

"Sure, sure," Frank responded as the gravel crunched under his feet as he retreated to the office.

The Masons began to stir from their slumber, "You get any sleep, Della?"

"Maybe an hour or two. You?"

He smiled lazily, "I think I finally fell asleep watching you sleep. You're the most beautiful woman I know."

She patted his chest, "You exaggerate, but I'll take it for now. We'd better get up and get moving. We've had long nights before…"

"Yes, but maybe not as much fun or as strenuous," Perry kissed his wife on the nose, on the forehead, on the chin, on the eyes, and on the lips. "I love you, Della."


End file.
